


Letters

by senseiPusan



Category: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Letters, Love, Love Confessions, Love Letters, Reader-Insert, Slasher, Why Did I Write This?, my sister is a sucker for thomas fluff, snail mail
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:07:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24017206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/senseiPusan/pseuds/senseiPusan
Summary: Ever since you moved away. You have always sent him letters, never knowing if he recieved them. That is until now.
Relationships: Leatherface | Thomas Brown Hewitt/Original Female Character(s), Leatherface | Thomas Brown Hewitt/You
Comments: 5
Kudos: 54





	Letters

"This place is a dump. Can't believe you actually lived out here." A scoff comes from the driver. Scott's always been a jerk, saying the first thing that comes to mind.  
"It's not that bad. The people are what made it the best." You really don't want to argue about this again.   
"No, Texas is a shit hole. Good thing you left." Scott cackles.  
 _Against my will._  
"Like Mississippi is any better?" Donna chimes in from the front seat.   
Ignoring them both and their ignorant bickering. Texas was the best time of your life. That's why you're going back. You have to know if your happiness is still there. A deep itch of finally being almost home. Has you restless as fuck. You can only hope they remember you. It's been fifteen years since that horrible day. But as it turns out, the world is testing you today.   
"Can you fix it?" Donna whines as the three of you are on the side of the road, looking at the flat tire.   
"Yeah I got a spare in the back. Must have been a nail in the road." Grumbling Scott opens the trunk pulling everything out.  
"Well thanks for the lift but I'm gonna bail. I'm just gonna walk the last few miles." Scooping up your backpack, you slowly start walking backwards.   
"What? No you can't just abandon us. We don't even know where we are." Donna practically screams in horror.   
"In good old Texas. Just keep following this road until it hits the interstate." Forcing a smile you keep backing up.   
"Seriously?" Scott stares in disbelief.   
"Yup! Thanks for the ride and hope you have fun in California." Waving you turn around and start power walking before they can guilt you into staying.   
Freedom! Now it's just you and the land in this long trek. You forgot how eerily silent the town has become. You had heard that the meat plant closed down a few years ago. Hell you'll be surprised if there is anyone still living out here. The plant should have killed everyone, would have saved money if they did it that way. Rather than let the whole town slowly bleed dry. 

***Woop Woop***

"Fuck." Whispering you stand by the side of the road and wait. You know that annoying woop woop anywhere.  
The old sheriff car slows to a stop a few feet from you. The car rattles as he steps out, an old grouchy looking man.  
"You lost missy?" The gruffness is matched with a sour look.  
"No sir. Just taking a walk." You remain neutral as possible and polite.   
"I ain't seen you around. Where are you from?"   
"Rhode Island but-"  
"You wouldn't happen to know what happened to the two young'uns a few miles back?" Cutting you off he steps forwards with a purpose.   
"What do you mean?" That question peaks your curiosity.  
"A ways back looks like car trouble but both are dead."  
"What? I left them thirty minutes ago. How can they be dead?" Confused, you don't know what to say. They were alive, bitching at the car but alive.  
"So you do know them. Well I think we need to have a talk. Get in the back."  
"Sheriff-"  
"Get. In." He pulls a pistol out. Pointing at you and the car. Panicking you shuffle towards the door. This situation is not good but what's worse is you can't figure it out but the sheriff looks familiar. The tattoo on his forearm, you know it from somewhere.   
Sliding into the back seat you place your backpack beside you. The car stinks, it's a putrid smell. Either something died in here or there's something dead in the trunk.   
The Sheriff climbs back into the driver's seat, slamming the door hard. He's not interested in any conversation. Driving in silence he gives you the side eye from the mirror the whole way.  
Now this is confusing, he's pulling up to the place you were going.   
"Sheriff how-"  
"Stay here." Barking out the order with a glare, you nod in response. Leaving you alone in the locked car, he walks inside.   
What is going on? You didn't tell anyone that you were coming for a visit. The Sheriff certainly didn't even ask for your name. So how would he know to bring you here?  
Leaning on the front seat you can see the house has taken a beating over the years. But it's still the same two story white plantation style house as before.   
The loud bang of the front door opening scares you. A massive man wearing a stained apron walks towards you. Keeping his head down the whole way. Retreating into the back seat. Who the hell is this?  
Reaching the door, he pauses a second before quickly opening it. Startled by the force you scoot towards the other door. Panic sets in. Suddenly he's grabbing your ankle and dragging you to the edge. Just as you start to fight him, he lets go of you. Curious you risk a glance. You’re staring into chocolate brown eyes. Eyes you know so well, the ones that haunt your dreams.  
“Thomas?” Whispering you can't believe it.  
He blinks in shock. He never thought you would recognize him. He recognized you instantly.  
Out of muscle memory, at the same time you hold your left hand up using the sign language I love you symbol. He is doing the same symbol with his right hand. Pressing them together you both stare, never blinking. Different emotions are flowing in the silence. That is before you throw yourself into his arms.   
Falling onto his back he holds you tightly watching your happiness explode. As you babble about how happy you are to see him, how you have missed him to upset that he never answered your letters back to squealing in joy.   
“How dare you leave me without a word!” Teasing you can't help the tears. His hands cup your face, wiping the tears away. "I’m okay. They're tears of joy, I always hoped that I would see you again.”

Everything is clearer now the rude Sheriff has to be Uncle Charlie. He was always an ass but now with power he's gone a little psycho.  
“Thomas quit fuckin around get her inside.” The Sheriff's gruff voice returns.   
Speaking of the asshole. Thomas steps in front of you shaking his head no.   
“No?”  
“Hoyt what's going on?” A faint voice comes from the house.   
“Nothing Mama.” He shouts back.  
“Hoyt? When did Charlie change his name?” Confused, you practically shout the question out.   
“What did you say?” Uncle Charlie, Hoyt whatever he wants to be called questions.   
“I asked when did you change your name to Hoyt? I clearly remember calling you Uncle Charlie.” Peeking out from behind Thomas you stare at the man dressed in the Sheriff's outfit. You knew there was something familiar about that tattoo.   
A huge arm he pushes you back. Thomas wants you to stay behind him.  
“Y/N? Y/N Y/L/N?”   
“Hello!” You peek back out. With a frustrated huff he shoves you behind him again. “Thomas I was just saying hello.”  
“Bullshit.” Scoffing, Hoyt can't believe it.   
“Uh huh!” Side stepping around Thomas, lifting your shirt up. Exposing the scar on your stomach. The one that dons most of your stomach, separating into three individual scars. You two were playing in the woods when you crawled over a piece of barbed wire. Uncle Charlie had to hold you still while Mama Luda stitched you together.   
“I'll be damned. There's never be a girl stupid as you that crawled over barbed wire for fun.”   
Frustrated, you watch him laugh. They never did believe you that it was a simple mistake.   
“It was an accident!”  
“You knew better than to be playing in the woods.” Huffing he remembers the two other people from today. “Well shit, your friends.”  
“It's okay. I was only hitching a ride with those assholes." Shrugging if you're being honest they were not your friends. A coworker introduced you to them because you were looking for a ride.   
“Asshole? Good riddance then. Common on Mama and Uncle Monty aren't going to believe this.” He nods at the house.   
Smiling you interlock your hand with Thomas's and follow Uncle Charlie inside. Pulling Thomas with you. Giddy you can't believe everyone is still here.   
"Mama! Uncle Monty! You're never gonna believe who I found." He yells once passing the threshold.   
"Hoyt, why are you yelling? There's no yelling in the house!" The scolding voice carries from the kitchen. Followed with the shuffle of two footsteps.   
"Mama you remember Y/N." Hoyt smirks.  
"Oh my… Y/N is that really you?"  
"Yes it's me." Smiling you never thought you could be this happy. Mama Luda and Uncle Monty haven't changed either.   
"Well I never! You've grown up so beautifully." She's in tears cradling your face, treating you like glass.  
"Thank you."

"You come and talk. Tommy has some work to finish." Hoyt orders interrupting your peace.  
Turning you stare at Thomas like he's going to fade to dust right in front of you. You can feel Thomas staring the same way. Neither one of you wants to let go.   
"Y/N. Tommy. You can see each other later." Luda takes you free hand in hers.   
"Yes Mama." The words tumble out slowly as she tugs you along. Internally screaming you don't want to talk. You just want to hug Tommy until there's no tomorrow. Nonetheless you let her pull you into the kitchen.   
Planting you in an empty seat at the table. She pours some lemonade as everyone sits down and you notice that Thomas heads to the basement.  
"Now tell me. How are your parents?" Mama Luda scoots her chair closer.  
"Both have passed on." It's a somber moment officially talking about it.   
"Oh dear. I'm sorry." Instantly she's frowning. You guess she didn't expect that answer.   
"Father was eight years ago. Mother last fall."  
"What have you been doing since school? There must be something." Trying to sound cheerful she diverts the conversation.   
"I'm a mechanic."  
"A what?" Mama Luda and Hoyt question in unison.  
"You became a mechanic!" Uncle Monty is laughing his ass off. Everyone knows that's something you must have picked up from him.  
"That's not fit for a lady." The frown temporarily returns to Mama Luda’s face.   
"Mama wasn't happy about it either." Smiling you remember the horrified face she made when you told her. "I was thinking about trying to buy the old house back and maybe open a mechanic shop." Shrugging you take a sip of lemonade.  
"Dumb idea no one left out here." Uncle Monty states sourly.  
"I know." Smiling it feels good to be home.

After dinner Thomas is showing you to your room, the same room you used to use when you would spend the night. But with each step towards the spare bedroom you feel queasy, you don't want to sleep alone. Grabbing his shirt you insist that he stop for a moment.  
"Thomas...Can I stay with you?" He turns, staring at you with wide eyes. Now you feel embarrassed. "You don't have to say yes. I understand that you'll want your personal space. It's just been so long and I have this overwhelming need to be close to you."  
With a silent groan he pulls you towards his room. It's just as you remember. The old spring bed, dresser off to the side and the now seemingly too small desk and chair. You place your backpack in the corner. You don't want him to accidentally trip because of your clutter. Leaning you pull out some pajamas.   
That's when he sees it. Your shirt rose up and in black ink is his name. It could be anybody's name but in shaky writing is the name Thomas. Before he knows it he has a hand on your hip.   
“What are you doing?” Startled, you didn't expect such a warm hand on your hip, especially Thomas's.   
Bewildered, he looks at you quickly removing. Pointing at your hip, he pokes it. Following his eyes you see what has him curious, most of your tattoo is showing. Exposing your hip so he can see it completely. Curiously he traces it with a finger with wide eyes.   
“Yes I have your name tattooed on my hip.” He gives you a look that you interpret as him asking why. “Because we were always attached at the hip.”   
Minutes go by as he processes this, slowly caressing the letters.  
“After you left school to work at the plant. I stole some of your homework that the teacher still had. Then when I got old enough I brought with me to the tattoo shop. I wanted it to be in your handwriting.” Embarrassed you've never told anyone the truth about the tattoo. That you wanted it because it was your way of staying sane and remembering the good times. Before he dropped out of school to help support the family and you moving away.  
You see him frown slightly as he turns to the closet. Opening it he's searching for something, it's not long before he finds it. His body is trembling as he hands you an old shoe box. You've never seen him this worried about showing you something. Sitting on the bed you carefully open it.   
“Oh. My. God. You did receive my letters.” Your heart drops.  
Everything's gone numb, you don't know if you exist anymore. The box is filled with everything you ever sent him and things from when you two were little. Picking a letter up you notice the worn edges like it has been read over and over.   
“I never knew if you did. I thought that they were ending up in the trash somewhere or to another person.”   
Placing it to the side, you see the pictures you have sent with the letters. Most just the yearly school photos but during high school you started to add different candid photos you thought were cute. But there's some old ones, of you two or just him that are burnt. Picking up the least burnt one, you and Thomas are in your Sunday best. Sitting on the front porch with his head resting on your shoulder while the two of you are reading Clifford the Big Red Dog. It looks like someone started to burn his face out but chose against it at the last minute leaving it an obscure dark color.  
“You…have no idea how much I've missed you.” Breaking down, you sob uncontrollably. Holding the picture tightly. "Please…. Please don't ever leave me again."   
Thomas doesn't know what to do. He never meant to hurt you, he just wanted you safe. He didn't think that ignoring your letters would cause this much pain. Watching you cry feels like a stab to his own heart.


End file.
